600 Years Hidden
by Ginzii
Summary: Having spent hundreds of years alone in the dungeons of Mirkwood, the forgotten prisoner of the Great King Thranduil welcomes the company of 13 Dwarves, never suspecting that their arrival could finally grant her with a trial for freedom. Legolas/OC
1. Chapter 1

The twelve dwarves of Erebor could not help but gawk at the sight of the carved tunnels and rooms so similar to what they would expect in their own home, so unlike what they would have expected their tree loving 'hosts' to dwell within. Not a single dwarf willing to admit the appreciation and awe they held for the workmanship of the elves. It seemed that they could go no deeper as they reached what seemed to be the forth level of the dungeon, but yet they trudge on, deeper into the fortress they were taken and further from any chance they had of escape. Balin could only hope, as he stumbled down the rough dusty steps, urged further and faster down by the elven guard, that Thorin would see sense and act diplomatically for the sake of their freedom.

To the wisened eyes of Balin it was all but advertised that these cells are the deepest in all of the Mirkwood dungeons, and rarely hold Elvish prisoners as if they are reserved for only the most crooked or foreign of inmates. Ready to assume that there would be no other prisoner deemed as lowly as a Dwarf to the King Thranduil, the dwarves were glad that they would be free to discuss their mission without worry of any criminals learning anything they should not. But as they continued their decent, Balin spied a single bowl with a mere smidgen of what could be a likened to grey sludge, presumably consumable, and a small hunk of bread. It seems as though they would not be as alone in their fate as he previously presumed. As hard as he may, Balin tried to see deeper into the dank dark cell to see what creature lay within the cell but all he could make out was a single leg, quite thin and much daintier than he would expect from a prisoner, bare and dirty.

Balin was overwhelmed with curiosity, as it was that from his cell Balin could see straight into the shadows of the strange prisoners cell and from there he watched eagerly awaiting for the prisoner to give into the desire to consume the offerings that lay on the stone walkway. But as time dragged on, no movement was made and Balin lost any hope he still had when a guard retrieved the untouched bowl. It was then that he remembered the severity of the situation at hand, he retired to sit on the cold stone floor and his concern for Thorin's return resurfaced.

-  
Unbeknownst to the dwarves, the prisoner sat silently listening, hoping to overhear any information that may allude to why a small pack of dwarves had found themselves locked away in the deepest caverns of Mirkwood. The dwarves spoke little of any bar the distaste of being held captive by the fairer race and reminiscence of their previous distaste of elvish cuisine and the shadowy figure soon shifted their eyes back on to the scarred wall of the cell. Silently counting the thousands of notches etched upon the stone, once more trying to complete the count and figure out just how many summers had been missed in seclusion.

Around the six thousandth notch the prisoner lost count as yet another dwarf was escorted to the surrounding cells, cursing the insolence of the distraction and deciding that today is not the day to think about time, and the day to care about time may never come to be. It was not until the newest dwarf released a bellowing roar of Dwarvish that the prisoner decided to, at some point, engage with the Dwarves. Slowly the prisoner readied to stand, wriggling toes and stretching aching limbs that had yet to move that day.

All was silent after Thorin's outburst on his arrival, as they all hoped to find some other way out of the cells that their leader had so recklessly condemned them to. The Dwarves had clearly forgotten quite quickly that they indeed had company within the dungeons walls that is if they had even noticed that they were not alone in the first place. The clear crisp sound of a gentle but croaky voice cut through the dense air, echoing deep within the stone walls.

'What, pray tell, is a small army of dwarves doing, locked deep within the 'great' King's dungeons? For I do not imagine dwarves often dare venture into the dangers of the Mirkwood paths without dire need. Unless, I am mistaken, and Dwarves truly live up to their… dim reputation'. The dwarves expressed their surprise in a variety of grunts, raised eyebrows and chortles. The least surprised of course, was Balin, who had, though subconsciously, still awaited any sign of life from their fellow inmate. Though none spoke to answer the stranger in a timely manner deemed appropriate by the prisoner.

'It would be very rude, my lord dwarves, if not a single one of you would honour me with a response, I understand if you do not wish to indulge me in you secrets. But you cannot blame a girl for her curiosity and I'm sure one of you has the comprehension to politely decline me of information.' It took a few moments, as the dwarves processed the words of their company before Balin, ever the diplomat spoke up.

'Aye lass, we cannot entrust you with details of our endeavour. But I will assure you that you are not mistaken, and we truly needed to pass through Mirkwood as our task is time sensitive. If we are trapped in these cells for much longer I fear we may never have the chance to see our h-er to meet our deadline.' At this the prisoner chuckled and walked closer to the bars of her cell, a wide grin overtook her face as the minimal light in the cavern lit up her eyes.

'My friends, I understand your reluctance, but I urge you to tell me more. For I have been here for many years too long, and I will be here, I assure you for many more years until, I presume, the day I pass into the halls of Mandos. I could do well with a tale or two, as I have grown weary of the tales I have in my memory.' The dwarves shared a look of consideration, before Thorin cast a long glance towards all his companions commanding them to remain quiet.

'I will not spare any details of my quest with an Elf, enemy of the Thranduil or not. But if it is tales you seek, I am sure we can offer you tales of our people other than that of our current journey. Would this be enough for your ears?' The elleth clapped her hands together with excitement before sitting herself down at the edge of her cell nodding her approval of such an offer.

'Very well, we have many tales, but first I must tell you of the terrible Dragon Smaug!'


	2. Chapter 2

The dwarves took turns telling the great tale of the Lonely Mountain, each too excited to tell the tale to new ears. Sometimes they spoke over one another and sometimes they argued over who would get to tell each part, before losing track of where they were and once even the argument led so far astray that the dwarves long forgot what they were fighting over. It was these moments that the elleth truly enjoyed the most. For it was rare for her to see much frivolous interaction between companions. She began to care less for the true details of the story and simply enjoy the banter. Though the story did eventually come to an end, and with it so did the mirth.

It was after a few moments of silence that the company of dwarves had realised they had not told the elleth their names. They immediately and at great speed with an almost lyrical organisation, strange it seemed for these usually scattered creatures. As she listed the many names in her head she could only recite 12, this was unusual as she was confident in her memory. _Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur_… and one more. She was certain, absolutely certain that their leader had not given his name.

'You may think me fooled my lord dwarves' She smirked as she looked each dwarf in the eye, one at a time. 'But clearly there are thirteen of you, and yet you only told me twelve names! How strange, that your apparent leader does not wish to give me his name.' She looked over the dwarves once again, the air tense and thick. After a few short moments she could not contain the snicker that had built in her throat.

'I care not, master dwarves, names do you no good down here, if you see these wall for even a fraction of the time as I, you will lose all care for your true name and your true place in middle earth.' After a brief pause the elleth sighed 'You may hear the guards call me_ Torech_, it is not my name nor will it ever be, but it has been so long since I have heard my true name spoken, that I am unsure if I still own it.' The dwarves shared a look of sadness as they felt the pain in the woman's voice. It was Fili who spoke up, who broke the painful silence that overtook the carvern,

'Well tell us your name then, and if we use it enough you may once again feel you have a home outside these walls.' The elleth regarded the kind words of the young dwarf, considering the idea of once again reclaiming her past.

'No, my dear Fili, I could not bear the pain of realigning myself with my unattainable life. To live in these walls knowing I have a place outside that I will never see again. No, I will not succumb to such pain' with those words and a heavy heart the nameless elleth retreated back into the dark recesses of her cell to hide the visible pain she could not hide from her company. 


	3. Chapter 3

The nameless elf watched from her cell as the fair elven captain conversed with Kili, looking down upon the pair as a lone figure appeared at the edge of her cell, clearly watching the same conversation as she. Moving silently in the shadows she came to stand behind the observer, a statuesque blonde elf. She had seen him before, only a couple of times in the past and earlier with the arrival of the dwarves. He rarely came to the dungeons, and when he did it was not for the rounds of a guard, no this elf was no simple guard. He was high born, someone with a voice in the kingdom. This was not a chance she could miss.

From the corner of her eye, as she focused on the elf, so close she could almost touch him if it were not for the iron bars blocking her way she saw the elven maiden drop gracefully to sit by the cell door of Kili. The elf in front of her had visibly been disturbed by the gesture of his kin towards a dwarf of all creatures, smirking she struggled to hold her tongue, but failed to keep to her original plan of speech.

'Ah love, it sparks in the strangest of places between the most surprising of mates. I can see you do not approve of this, she means something to you and you do not wish for her to taint herself with the love of a dwarf!' The elf had tensed at the voice behind him, having not known that there was anyone but the dwarves down in these lower cells. He turned eyebrow raised, forgetting entirely of what the prisoner had said to him. For he had no knowledge of what this prisoner was doing so deep in the dungeons of Mirkwood.

'Boy, tell me what you did to land yourself in this cell, so far down in the lowest levels of our prisons. What deed could be deemed so awful for such a young Elfling condemned to such a cell, with such vile company? Whatever crime you committed must be atrocious. I must know.' She had flinched and avoided the gaze of the elf as he had turned to interrogate her, taking to star at her bare feet, a frown crinkling on her grime streaked forehead. She was so taken aback, having suspected nothing but the typical jeers and scorn of the guards that delivered her food, she calculated the likelihood of convincing this elf to take her to the King. To try once again to plea for her freedom, to make the king see his mistake. She raised her head, hope filling her long empty chest only to have her hopes leave her entirely as she recognised the steely blue eyes of the Mirkwood princeling Legolas.

'Laddie?' Gloin bellowed. 'Did ye jus' call that woman a boy? Ye must be blind to think that something so dainty could possibly be male. Look again princeling.'

-

Legolas was about to insult the hairy beast of a dwarf when her heard the distinctly feminine laugh coming from the boy in the cells. Turning his attention back to the prisoner before him he again looked over the form of the prisoner. If he was in fact a she, he could not discern any glaring physical signs. Though the clothes they wore loose and it was possible that if this prisoner was female they were just not as curvaceous as the women of the court that he was used to seeing.

'An elleth? If this is true it is very strange, we have a segregated area of females much higher in the dungeons. Your case is growing ever more curious. Why, if these dwarves tell the truth, are you, an elleth doing in this cell?' This was it, this was her chance. She stood as straight as she could straight with her nerves so flimsy they would tremble in a gentle breeze. Taking a deep breathe she looked directly into the eyes of the elven prince.

'My lord, the dwarves speak the truth. I am an elleth of Lorien and I am also not an elfling. I am at a guess nearing my 2000th summer. Though I do not know exactly for I have been here for such a long time. All I know is that I was 1361 summers old when I was placed in this cell. I committed not the crime I was accused of and I fear that due to error of both mine and the Great King I have been doomed to a fate that I do not deserve. I ask you my prince, to please find me an Audience with your father. For I am sure if I am given a fair trial I could prove my innocence!' Legolas regarded the elleth unsure on whether to trust the words of an imprisoned elf, for mistakes had clearly been made for her to be placed where she should not.

'I am tempted to believe your words and to seek this trial you so desire, but I must enquire into what exactly you are here for, what is your name lady of secrets, and why are you here?' Hope deflating the elleth weighed up her options, to tell the prince her story and risk never walking through the stone archway of her cell or to beg the prince to not hear her story until she had a broader audience. It was an easy decision, she would not beg, nut until she absolutely need beg.

'I must ask that you hear me out, that you listen to my every word before you dismiss my tale as a lie. For I have yet to have my story heard and believed. Promise me, my prince, that no matter your emotions no matter your disbelief you will hear me out to the end, and consider the facts of my case.' The intrigue was as clear as day on the prince's face as he considered the promise he had been asked to make. He deemed it very unusual for a prisoner to take such caution when given a chance of a trial. With a silent nod Legolas promised to hear the elleth's full story, reserving his judgement until the final word was spoken.'

'First I will start with my name, I am Tiraniel, Daughter of Galadriel and I have been imprisoned for my own disappearance and the theft of my crown.' 


End file.
